It Only Hurts When I Laugh
by Lisa66
Summary: Story complete! Thanks once again for the kind reviews and e-mails. You have all been supportive and helpful and I truly appreciate it.
1. Lunchtime Terror

**Disclaimer:  The show and the characters belong to CBS and Viacom. They are merely being borrowed for this piece of fan fiction.**

**Author's Note:   I actually have two wonderful ladies who have now taken me on to raise.  Their insight, humor and constant encouragement give me the courage to continue to write.  This story is based on one of Betty's challenges.  I thank her for the idea and her suggestions.  She was a tremendous help and always positive.  One other note, my stories are standalone, they are not a series, so things that happened in the others are not necessarily taken into consideration in this story.******

**It Only Hurts When I Laugh**

**Chapter 1 – Lunchtime Terror **

"Jesse, I can't believe this couldn't be taken care of after hours one night rather than the middle of the day," Steve complained.

"It could have been taken care of at night, for three times the money," Jesse explained with more than a trace of exasperation in his voice.

"So it's better to lose a day's business?" Steve asked.

"When you add up the numbers, yes it is," Jesse responded.

"It isn't all about numbers, Jesse, us not being open may make people mad and they won't come back," Steve replied.

"Steve, I hardly think us closing for a day to replace our stoves is going to be our downfall," Jesse responded in an irritated voice.

Mark and Amanda had watched the exchange and shared a smile.  Mark couldn't help but think that they were more like children bickering over a favorite toy than two adult business owners.  They had all gathered at BBQ Bob's for some lunch before heading back to work.  The workers who would be replacing the stoves were due to arrive at 1PM, and they had decided to take advantage of the fact that the restaurant was closed and they wouldn't have to fight the normal lunchtime crowd.  His thoughts were interrupted by the outside door slamming open and three men rushing in.  He immediately took note of the fact that they had guns in their hands, he then shifted his gaze to his son and saw him moving his hand towards the ever- present gun on his right hip.  The next few moments were a blur as the armed men noticed Steve's action and the badge on his belt and centered their attention on him.

'Hold it right there Cop," ordered the tallest of the three.

Steve's hand continued to move until he saw one of the other men aim his gun towards Amanda.  Steve stopped moving, then slowly turned his palms outwards and raised his arms above his head. 

"You," the man shouted pointing at Jesse.  "Get his gun and bring it to me."

Jesse glanced at Steve who nodded that it was ok for Jesse to proceed.  Jesse walked slowly towards Steve and hesitantly removed it from the holster.

"Bring it to me," the man instructed.  "And then I want you to cuff his hands behind his back."

Jesse tentatively moved towards the man and handed him the gun, butt, first he then made his way back towards Steve.  "I'm sorry, Steve," Jesse said sadly.

"Not your fault, Jess, don't worry about it.  Please, just do whatever they say.  I can't take a chance on any of you getting hurt." Steve answered.

Mark had been holding his breath in those first few moments.  He had been terrified that the men would open fire on Steve.  He watched as Jesse gently pulled Steve's arms behind his back and then cuffed him.  He breathed a sigh of relief.  Maybe they could get out of this in one piece.  His relief was short lived.

"Ok, you three over here to this table," the tall man instructed.  "Jay, you keep your gun on them.  Stan, you keep your gun on our cop friend.

_Ok, so we have a Jay and a Stan.  What's you name? _Steve thought to himself.His thoughts were interrupted as the man moved towards him.  From the look in his eyes he knew what was coming.  His only regret was that his father, Jesse and Amanda would have to witness it.  He tried to brace himself but it didn't help.  The first punch was accompanied by a gasp from the table the others had been moved to.  Steve heard his father call his name as he fought to stay on his feet.  The next punch caught him on the left side of the face and he tasted blood.

"Mike, stop," Stan requested.  "We may need him."

_Hi, Mike, _Steve thought.

"Alright, put him over there with the others for now," Mike directed.

Steve, though still wobbly, shrugged off the hand Stan placed on his elbow and made his way towards the table where his father and friends sat.  As he sat down, he felt his father's hand on his arm.

"Steve, are you alright?" Mark inquired gently.

"Yeah, Dad, I'm fine.  Listen, I need you guys to promise me you'll do whatever they say," Steve pleaded.

"Steve, I don't know that I can make that promise.  I'm worried about you and I want to help you any way I can." Mark responded.

"Ditto," Jesse replied as Amanda nodded her head in agreement.

Steve smiled faintly.  Though he wished they were somewhere else he was grateful for their support.  "Ok, then promise me you won't do anything stupid," Steve compromised with a smile.  Their responses were halted by a noise from outside.

~~****~~

Cheryl came to a halt in front of BBQ Bob's.  _Jeez Sloan, can't you even have work done on your restaurant without getting into trouble?  _She thought to herself.  "Have you contacted them yet?" Cheryl asked Tom Smithers the officer in charge.

"No, we were waiting on you," Smithers replied.

"Ok, I'll try and call Steve's cell first," Cheryl answered.  She pulled her phone out and made the call.

~~****~~

The sound of screeching tires had gotten the attention of all those in the restaurant.  The eyes of the captors off them for the moment, Steve briefly considered making a move, but the restricted use of his arms and the possibility of injury to his father, Jesse or Amanda ruled the action out.In the next moment, all eyes focused on him as his cell phone began to ring.

"Answer it," Mike instructed Jesse.  

Jesse removed the phone from Steve's belt and answered.  "Hello?"

"Jesse?" Cheryl asked.

"Yes," Jesse replied.

"Where's Steve?" Cheryl inquired.  "Is he alright?  Who else is in there?"

"For now, they had me cuff his hands so he's a little indisposed," Jesse responded.  "Mark and Amanda are here also.  So what's up with these guys?"

"They tried to rob the bank down the block, one of the teller's pulled the silent alarm.  There were a couple of units that had just pulled in to the burger place across the street when the call came in.  The robbers came out, opened fire and shot one of the officers then fled down the street and ended up here," Cheryl responded.

Jesse didn't get the chance to ask any questions because the phone was yanked from his hand by Mike.

"We want out of here," Mike demanded.

"Who is this?" Cheryl asked.

"This is the man who is calling the shots unless you want four dead hostages," Mike responded with a laugh.

"I'd like to talk with Lieutenant Sloan," Cheryl requested.

"He's a little busy trying out his handcuffs, you can talk to me," Mike answered.  "Better yet, I'll do the talking.  We want a police car, a clear path to the airport and a jet waiting for us.  We will give the destination once we get on board the plane."

"I'm afraid I can't do that…," Cheryl began to respond but was interrupted before she could complete the sentence.

"You can't do it?" Mike screamed.  "Let me tell you how this is going to work.  You will do what I ask.  Each time you don't I'm going to have a little dance with Lieutenant Sloan here.  He looks pretty sturdy but I'm thinking he won't last for too long.  I have to go now and relieve my disappointment in your answer.  I suggest you call me back soon with a different response or Lieutenant Sloan and I will have some more quality time together."

~~****~~

Cheryl stood dumbfounded at what had just happened.  She wasn't going to refuse what they wanted, she was just trying to buy some time until the hostage negotiators arrived on the scene and now she had made things worse for Steve.

~~****~~

Mark stared in horror at the look on Mike's face.  He knew what was coming, and he turned towards Steve and saw in his expression that he as well knew what was about to happen.

"Just stay calm, guys.  I'll be fine," was Steve's response.

"Stan, you keep our friends here occupied.  Jay, help Lieutenant Sloan up," Mike instructed.

As he was pulled from his chair, Steve shared a look with the three occupants at the table.  His father made an attempt to rise and follow him but was shoved roughly back into his chair by Stan.  Though slightly restrained by Jay and with his hands cuffed behind his back Steve could not stand by while his father was manhandled.  He broke away from Jay and lowered his shoulder and drove it into Stan knocking him to the floor.  He stood staring down at the fallen man until he heard his father cry his name.  In the next instant, he was on his knees trying to recover from a vicious kidney punch delivered by Jay.  A hand was then twisted in his hair and he was yanked to his feet.  He struggled to rise and saw the concerned faces of his father and friends.  "I'm alright," he gasped.  "Just don't give them a reason to hurt you, ok?"  He was then propelled over towards the counter where Mike was waiting expectantly.

"Lesson number one, Lieutenant Sloan," Mike stated as he pounded a fist into Steve's abdomen.  He then proceeded to land punch after punch into Steve's body.  When his knees finally gave way and Steve dropped to the floor Mike used his feet to further punish the injured man.

Mark sat at the table his eyes squeezed shut and his head down as if that would deflect the sound of the fists pounding into the flesh of his son.  Amanda, head down as well, sobbed quietly.  Jesse found himself unable to tear his eyes away from the brutality that was taking place in front of him.  Though his eyes were bright with unshed tears he could not look away as his best friend was abused.

"Stop, please," was Mark's strangled cry.

Mike stopped his foot in mid swing and looked at the bruised and bloodied figure at his feet.  "I guess you're right, old man, I don't want to kill him yet."  He grabbed Steve under one of his arms and motioned for Jay to grab the other arm and then dragged him back to the table and dropped him on the floor.

Mark and Jesse immediately fell to their knees on either side of Steve.  Amanda took a position down by his lower body and rested a hand on his leg.  Mark was torn as to what to do.  Steve was lying on his back which was putting painful pressure on his cuffed hands but he was hesitant to move him to his stomach until he had a chance to examine his damaged abdomen.

"Steve?" Mark choked through his dry throat.

Pain dulled eyes flickered open and tried to focus on his father's face.  After a moment, he could see clearly and he offered Mark a slight smile.

Mark smiled back.  "I know it hurts, but can you stay on your back for a moment until we get you checked out?"

Steve nodded his positive response.

"Steve, this may hurt a little, ok?" a concerned Jesse added.  

In a voice that was little more than rasp Steve answered.  "Go ahead, Jess."

Amanda moved up closer and rested Steve's head in her lap.  She offered him a gentle compassionate smile and gently stroked his hair as Mark and Jesse began the examination.

Steve tried not to let the pain he was in show.  He didn't want to worry the others but he couldn't find a place that didn't seem to ache.  His ribs were on fire, he had a deep penetrating pain in his lower back and his face throbbed like an impacted tooth.

"I think we got lucky," Jesse said.

Steve laughed and instantly regretted it.  The laugh turned into a cough, which served to awaken all the pains at the same time.  His breathing became rapid and shallow, which only increased the agony to his ribs.

"Steve, slow breaths," Mark gently coaxed.

Steve nodded as he tried to bring his body under control.  After a few painful and stressful moments it lessened and his breathing became more normal.  He offered his father a reassuring smile.  "I'm sorry, I was just trying to figure out how we got lucky."

"We got lucky because I don't think you have any broken ribs.  You're pretty bruised but that's it," Jesse responded.

Steve smiled again.  "Well, I'm glad that's all it is."

"Steve, do you think you can roll over so that we can take a look at your back?" Mark asked.

"Sure, Dad."  As Steve attempted to roll over, he felt gentle hands support his body and help him lay on his stomach.  His hands had become numb from where he had been lying on them and pin pricks of pain accompanied the return of blood flow to them.

Mark rolled Steve's shirt up and had to suppress a gasp at the darkening bruises he saw there.  He glanced up and shared a look with Jesse.  Jesse nodded his silent agreement.  

"Steve…" Mark got no further as Steve's cell phone rang again.

"What?" Mike barked as he answered it.

Mark listened intently trying to decipher what was being said.  It didn't take long for him to realize that Mike was not happy.  

"That's not good enough, I want the plane," Mike shouted.  "I told you what would happen each time you disappointed me," he stated as he disconnected the phone and slammed it shut.  He looked at Stan and Jay before continuing.  "It looks like we might get a car but no plane.  That means we get to have more fun with Lieutenant Sloan."

"No!" three voices cried in unison.

"I won't let you touch my son again," Mark roared.

"How are you going to stop me?" Mike asked sarcastically.

The conversation was halted as Steve attempted to rise to his knees from his prone position on the floor.

Mark placed a restraining hand on his shoulder.  "Lie still, Steve."

"Dad, please, don't argue with them.  Just help me up," came Steve's muffled response.

Seeing that Steve was going to continue to try and rise, Mark relented and with Jesse's help they moved him to a sitting position.

Steve looked into the eyes of his tormentor and in that moment he knew that he would not make it out of this situation alive.  Some criminals inflicted pain when they felt they had no other choice, others got their kicks from the same thing, Mike was one of those men and Steve had met his kind before.  Realizing his own fate, his goal became securing the release of his father, Jesse and Amanda.

"Come on, Cop, it's time to party again.  Stan, Jay help our friend up," Mike ordered.

Steve was ripped from the comforting grasp of his father and friends and unceremoniously dragged across the floor.  He felt himself being held and tensed when he looked up to see the punch heading towards his face and heard his father's cry of distress.   


	2. Things Can Only Get Better?

**It Only Hurts When I Laugh**

**Chapter 2 – Things Can Only Get Better?**

Steve awoke to a comforting softness under his cheek.  He lay for a moment trying to decide if it was worth the effort to open his eyes.  He heard the murmur of voices and was able to distinguish his father's.  The unnatural anger and worry contained in his tone gave Steve the encouragement needed to open his bruised and swollen eyes.  "Dad?"

"Yes, Son?" Mark responded.

"Are you alright?" Steve inquired.

The simpleness of the question was almost Mark's undoing.  His emotions were hanging like a tattered flag in a hurricane.  Watching his son being beaten had taken a toll and he was not fully in control.  He squeezed his hands into fists and willed himself to calm down.  "I'm fine, Son, we are more worried about you."

As Steve became more aware of his surroundings, he shifted his head slightly to try and determine what his head was resting on.  A glance upward showed him the smiling face of Amanda.  His head was cushioned on her lap.  

"Hey, good looking," she intoned.

"Hey yourself, what's a knockout like you doing in a place like this?" he asked with a slight smile on his face.

"Why being your pillow, of course," she bantered back with more than a hint of sadness in her voice.

Steve's soft laugh turned into a strangled cough.  "It only hurts when I laugh," he stated with a small amount of humor to his concerned father and friends.

Mark attempted a smile but was not completely successful.  "Steve, we have to get you out of here.  I've been considering our options and I think I have a plan."

"Dad, please, just leave things alone.  I don't want any of you taking any chances." 

"Steve, I will not stand by and watch them destroy you a piece at a time," Mark answered.

"Dad, Cheryl will get us out of here, you just have to be patient.  It will take some time.  Please don't try anything."  The comment that remained unspoken between them was the fact that they both believed that Steve was marked for death no matter what happened.

Mark decided to let the issue drop for the moment but he fully intended to take whatever steps that were necessary to protect his son.  He was not a violent man by nature, but he would not stand by and allow his son to be beaten again.  He had discussed things with Jesse and Amanda and even though the plan was dangerous for all, they had eagerly agreed to it.  He had to figure out a way to convince Steve and then wait for the right time.

Unaware of his father's thoughts Steve was taking a silent inventory of his new aches and pains.  They had seemed to concentrate on his face this time.  His lips were split and bleeding, and he had already recognized the swelling around his eyes when he had tried to open them.  All in all it hadn't been that bad.  If they had concentrated on his ribs and back again he doubted he would still be able to function.  Though he felt wobbly he knew he had the reserves to take action when he needed to.

~~****~~

"What is taking so long?" Cheryl demanded.

"Detective Banks, we are doing the best that we can.  You have been involved in these kinds of situations before and you know how they work.  If you can't deal with this on a professional level rather than personal one, I will have you removed from the scene," explained the irritated hostage negotiator Simon Ward.  "Do you understand?"

Cheryl dropped her head and drew a deep breath.  How could this not be personal?  They had her partner, her friend.  She felt responsible for anything they might have done to him.  She had played by the rules in trying to stall for time and she couldn't help but think that Steve had paid for that.  She wanted, no she needed, to talk to him, to hear his voice. 

~~****~~

"Steve, I need to explain to you what I want to try," offered Mark in a whisper.

"Dad….," Steve started.

Mark glanced towards the three men who stood gathered around the counter.  They were engrossed in their conversation and for the moment appeared to have forgotten their hostages.  "No, Steve, no arguments.  I need you to listen to me."

Steve looked hard at his father.  His voice though still soft had a quality he had not heard in a long time.  Desperation.  His intelligent, resourceful father never got desperate, he always just outsmarted everyone else.  Steve could only recall one other time when he had heard the same tone in his father's voice.  After he had been shot by Oz Tatum and Mark had been framed for murder by the Trainors, there had been another attempt on his life.  He would never forget the sound of his father's voice when Amanda had passed him the phone that day in the pathology lab.  He had not heard it again until today.

"I want you to request that they allow you to talk with the hostage negotiator face to face at the door.  When he comes to the door, I am going to fake having a heart attack.  Jesse and Amanda are going to make a break for the back of the restaurant.  When that happens I want you to run as fast as you can out the door," Mark completed.

Steve's smile was laced with sadness.  "Dad, you know I'm not going to do that.  I could no more leave the three of you in here than you would leave me."

Mark knew his hand had been trumped.  His always logical, protective son had outmaneuvered him.  As he began to plot his next step, he cringed at the sound of Steve's phone ringing.

"You rang," Mike answered sarcastically.

Once again all the occupants of the room were left in the dark as to the purpose of the call.  Steve lifted his head slightly off Amanda's lap and attempted to sit up.  His efforts were aided by the ever present hands that surrounded him.  As he rose to a sitting position, he noticed that Jay was staring intently at Amanda.  He had seen that look before and he didn't like it.  He felt abused muscles tense in anger and nearly gasped at the pain.  _No, you'll touch her over my dead body_.  His thoughts were interrupted by his name being called.

"Sloan, you're wanted on the phone, get over here," Mike ordered.

Steve attempted to rise to his feet and once again felt himself supported by tender hands.  He smiled his thanks and motioned for them to stay where they were and then made his way over towards Mike.  Mike handed the phone to Steve.

Steve shook his head.  "That's going to be a little difficult with my hands cuffed."

'Jay?...Jay?...JAY!" Mike screamed.

"What?" was Jay's dull response.

"Uncuff our friend here," Mike said indicating Steve.

Jay reluctantly took his eyes away from Amanda, moved towards Steve and removed the cuffs.

Steve immediately grabbed his wrists and rubbed them vigorously.  He then reached for the phone.  "Sloan."

"Steve?" Cheryl said with an amazed tone.  "I never dreamt they would let me talk with you."

"Hey, Partner," Steve replied.  "How are things out there?"

"Tense, how are you?" she asked.

"Oh, I've been better.  These three seem to enjoy their work," Steve answered.

"Ok, so there are three of them.  Things got real intense when they took off from the bank.  The officers on the scene weren't sure if there were two or three," Cheryl responded.

"How are things coming on their demands?" Steve inquired.  He never got to hear her response as the phone was yanked from his hand.

"I'm very interested in that answer," Mike said as he covered the mouthpiece and placed the phone to his ear.  He listened intently to the voice on the other end who still thought she was talking with Steve.

Steve tried to appear unconcerned but he knew what Cheryl was saying and it was confirmed by the changing expression on Mike's face.  He covertly surveyed the room to determine if he could take action.  His hands were free and he didn't know when that might happen again.  Jay and Mike were in close proximity.  Stan was standing close to the table were the others sat.  He was slightly turned towards Steve and his fellow robbers.  _It's now or never, _Steve thought.  He made eye contact with his father in an attempt to communicate his intended action.  He saw Mark's eyes widen and the slight almost imperceptible shake of his head.  Steve knew the time had come when he heard Mike speak.

"Well, thank you for all this wonderful information.  I feel so enlightened knowing all your plans."

As Mike began to close the phone, Steve moved.  He shoved Mike in the back towards Jay at the same time he reached for the gun in Mike's belt.  He didn't have time to notice that his father and Jesse had shoved the table at Stan successfully knocking him to the floor.  They had moved to claim the gun that had skittered across the floor when a shot rang out.  Everyone stopped as if frozen in place.  Steve looked down to see Mike lying on the floor his gun pointed directly at Steve.  It was then that Steve felt the sudden burning in his upper right arm and he realized his mistake.  Mike had shot him with his own police issue revolver.  _How stupid could I be?_  He chastised himself.

"That was stupid, Cop.  Drop the gun and step towards the counter," Mike ordered.

Steve looked and found that Stan had retrieved his gun and now had it trained on his father.  Jay who had knocked his head on a chair when he went down was stirring and beginning to rise to his feet.  He had no choice.  With a sigh he laid the gun on the stool in front of him, and as he turned to face the counter a wave of dizziness overtook him and he nearly fell.

"Steve, what's wrong," was Mark's worried question.

Steve realized that they couldn't see the bullet wound in his right arm.  "The bullet just grazed me a little, Dad, don't worry about it," Steve responded.

Mark stood and shoved Stan out of the way as he made his way towards his son.

"Sit down, old man," Mike ordered.

"I will NOT," Mark informed him briskly as he continued towards his son.  "IF, you have a problem with that I suggest you shoot me now."

"DAD!" Steve yelled.  "Please, don't!"

Mike stood staring at Mark with a look that Steve could only describe as respect.  "Ok, go ahead.  Jay cuff him again."  When his request did not motivate movement he screamed the name again.  "JAY!  What is your problem?  I said cuff him."

Jay moved towards Steve, grasped his hands and pulled them behind his back.  Steve hissed as the motion pulled at the wound on his arm.  

Mark stopped beside his son and looked into his eyes.  The look they shared conveyed more than a book full of written words.  It spoke of love, trust, respect and a lifetime of shared memories.  The smile Steve gave his father was a gift like no other.  It filled the clear blue eyes with a bright sparkle that was full of life.  The bruises and cuts on his face could not diminish its affect.  Mark smiled back with an equal brilliance that filled his son with a comforting peace. 

"Can't you leave those off until I can check his arm out?" Mark asked

"Well, sure I could," Mike said as he paused for a moment.  "But, I'm not going to," he said with an evil grin.

With a look at Mike that was full of venom, Mark then turned his attention back to his son.  He gently guided him to a sitting position on one of the stools at the bar.

~~****~~

"They know everything," Cheryl informed Simon Ward.

"Don't worry about it, Banks.  They had to know we weren't going to meet those kinds of demands," Ward explained.  

"But they know that we are planning to make a move," Cheryl answered.

"Banks…," he paused.  "Cheryl, it won't change what we need to do and you know that," Ward answered.

Her response was stalled by the sound of a gun being fired inside Bob's.  "No!" she screamed as she headed towards the row of police cars that made up the perimeter.

~~****~~

Mark had convinced Mike to let him have some scissors and he had cut the sleeve of Steve's shirt away to reveal an angry looking wound in the upper portion of Steve's right arm; it had gone straight through the fleshy part of the bicep.  He had bandaged it as best he could and Steve had tolerated his ministrations with little outward reaction to the pain he knew he was inflicting.

~~****~~

Cheryl stopped as she reached the cars and felt a trembling invade her legs.  Her emotions were on edge.  She felt like so much of this was her fault.  The urge to rush into the building was overwhelming.  She felt a hand rest on her shoulder and looked up into the concerned eyes of Simon Ward.

"Cheryl, I know you feel responsible for some of the things that have happened however untrue that may be, but I need you here, you're one of the best officers the department has and that's what its going to take to get those people out of there alive.  If you are going to continue to react emotionally rather than rationally than I will have no choice but to send you home.  Is that understood?" Simon Ward completed.

The words hit home and Cheryl knew he was right.  "I'm ok," she responded.  "I promise I can handle this."

~~****~~

"Let's separate them.  If the police do decide to move in I want us spread out.  Jay you take our cop friend and the little lady to the back.  Stan and I will stay out here with Pops and his doctor friend." Mike ordered.

Steve's head jerked up.  The thought of Jay anywhere close to Amanda sent his instincts into overdrive.  He saw her moving towards him with concern filling her doe brown eyes and a gentle smile on her face.  She stopped beside him and placed her small hand on his arm.  He returned her smile and attempted to rise but was once again beset by dizziness.  He felt not only her steadying hand but the strength of her presence and it helped to stabilize him.  They walked side by side each comforted by the other to the kitchen area of the restaurant.

~~****~~

"Mike, you look tired why don't you come back here and sit down?" Mark asked.

"Why, so you can try and talk me in to letting you all go?" Mike responded with a smile.

"No, I'm merely concerned about a man who is tired holding a gun on me.  Your friend Stan appears to be perfectly capable of keeping us under control," Mark answered.

Mike stood contemplating the offer for a moment.  He was tired.  Bone weary actually.  He had been holding everything together since this entire fiasco had started.  He looked towards Stan to see him intently watching their two hostages._  Maybe it won't hurt if I sit down, for just a minute._  His decision made he moved towards the table Mark and Jesse shared and sat down.

"So tell me, what are all of you doing in a restaurant that is closed?" Mike asked.

"My son, Jesse, and I own it.  We were going to have some work done so we closed for the day," Mark responded.

"So other than the cop you are all doctor's right?" Mike asked

"Yes, we all work at Community General Hospital," Jesse responded.

"I know that hospital, my mom died there," he informed them.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Mark responded.  "What happened to her?"

"My old man shot her," Mike responded in an emotionless voice.

"Wow, that must have been horrible," Jesse spoke quietly.

"Naw, actually it was probably a blessing.  It let her escape from the almost daily beatings he gave her," Mike responded in a matter of fact tone.

"I'm sorry, Mike," Mark replied sincerely.  The man that sat before him had been formed by the life that he had led.  It didn't make his actions right, but it at least explained a little about who he was.

~~****~~

Amanda and Steve sat on the floor side by side.  Steve was leaning back against the wall as far as his cuffed hands would allow and Amanda was nestled into his left side.  She took care not to lean into him too much in deference to his abused body, but she craved the comfort of human contact.  Jay made her skin crawl.  He had a way of looking at her that made her feel naked and unclean.  She knew Steve was experiencing similar misgivings.  As they had settled onto the floor, he had whispered as much to her.  As Jay moved towards them she moved closer to Steve, and he hunched forward in an attempt to embrace her.  As Jay drew close enough he leaned in and struck Steve in the side of the head with the gun then before she could react he did the same to Amanda.  


	3. One Down And Two To Go

**It Only Hurts When I Laugh**

**Chapter 3 – One Down and Two To Go**

"Do you have any children, Mike?" Mark asked.  Mark found the change in Mike's expression was startling.  His face softened and the hardened look in his eyes disappeared.

"Yes," Mike responded quietly.  "I have a ten year old son."

_Finally a common bond!  _Mark exclaimed to himself.

"Do you get to see him often?" Mark questioned.

"No, his mother doesn't really approve of me," Mike responded sadly.  "The last time I was in prison, she went to court and got full custody.  I had always said I would be a better dad than my father was, but obviously that hasn't happened."

"My dad was never around when I was growing up," Jesse added.  "I would have given anything for things to have been different."

Mark nodded his appreciation for Jesse's help then spoke again to Mike. "There is still a chance for you to play a role in his life." 

"How do you figure that?  This is my third felony, if I go away this time it's for a long time.  I figure I might as well go out in a blaze of glory," he replied coldly.

Disconcerted by Mike's last statement Mark proceeded with caution.  "Mike, as long as you are alive there are options.  He might have to visit you in prison but you would still get the opportunity to get to know him.  I can speak from experience as to what a blessing a child can be in your life."

"Mark's right," Jesse said.  "Though I regret not having my dad around when I was younger, things have gotten better in recent years.  I appreciate that opportunity."

Mike looked at each of them and wondered if what they said was true.  Could he really have a future with his son?  Further contemplation was halted by the sound of gunfire from the kitchen.

~~****~~

Steve swam back to consciousness like a swimmer through rough and choppy waters.  It felt as if a brass band had taken up residence in his head.  He willed himself to further alertness and became aware of the sounds around him.  He heard what sounded like a struggle and muffled shrieks.  In that moment his memory returned with such force that it was painful.  He opened his eyes and through his blurry vision he saw Jay across the room straddling Amanda.  All he could see were her legs and they were bound.  With a determination born of necessity he righted himself as quietly as possible and began the task of bracing his back against the wall to help him stand.  That accomplished he paused for a moment before lowering his shoulder and running towards Jay.  His approach was not silent and as he approached them Jay turned and grabbed his gun which lay beside him on the floor.  He fired at the figure hurtling towards him.  Steve felt the burning pain slice across his abdomen, but his momentum continued to carry him forward.  He hit Jay with full force knocking him back towards the wall which his head and neck impacted with a sickening crunch.  Steve stood slightly above him panting and took note of the odd angle of Jay's head.  He then glanced back towards Amanda to see blood streaming from her head and tears filling her eyes.  The rush of adrenaline that had propelled him began to fade and his vision became tunneled.  His next view of Amanda was a sideward glance as he lay on the floor beside her.  He heard the sounds of running feet and then allowed the oblivion to claim him once again.

~~****~~

The occupants of the dining area had all reacted to the gunshot in the same way.  Startled glances, and quick movements towards the kitchen.  Despite his age Mark arrived first and took in the scene before him.  "No," he cried before continuing across the room to his fallen son and Amanda.  Jesse was quickly by his side and joined him on the floor to examine them.  Mike and Stan had stopped just inside the door and were observing the scene that was playing out in front of them.

"Jay don't look so good," Stan said.

"You're right…, you there…, Jesse, right?  Check on Jay," Mike ordered.

"I will NOT," Jesse exclaimed.  "When I get through with my friends I will take a look at him, but not before."

"Jesse, you will do as I say or I will put a bullet in the cop's head and eliminate the need for further care," Mike replied succinctly.

After a nod from Mark, Jesse rose to his feet and moved towards Jay.  He placed two fingers on the pulse in his neck and waited patiently.  "I don't have a pulse."  He then examined the back of the neck and head.  The bottom part of the head felt mushy and when Jesse pulled his hand away it was covered in blood and another substance that Jesse recognized immediately.  The impact of Jay's head with the wall had caused it to bust open like a watermelon dropped from a truck.  His skull had been fractured and pressed into the brain.  There was no need for a further examination.  "He's dead," Jesse said in an emotionless voice.

"Then I need you here Jesse," Mark responded.  Mark had lifted Steve's shirt to reveal a bleeding wound on Steve's left side.  The bullet had carved a deep trough.  He had been trying to apply pressure to the wound as well as release Amanda from her restraints.  He had pulled her rumpled clothing down as best he could under the circumstances.  When he had gotten the dirty dishrag that Jay had shoved in her mouth out, he had quietly asked her if she was ok.  Through her sobs she had told him that Steve had gotten to her in time.  Jay had been unable to do her any harm.  Mark took note of the nasty gash on her forehead, the bruising around her neck and the tear filled eyes and realized that her statement was not completely true.  Harm had been done.  Both physical, and mental.  He released her to Jesse's tender care and concentrated his efforts on his still unresponsive son.  He had been quietly calling his name as he evaluated the latest assault on his already beleaguered body.  "Steve," he called once again.  This time his efforts were rewarded by a slight twitch.  "Steve," he tried softly.  A tongue flicked out to moisten dry bloody lips and Mark could see the beginnings of blue in the slightly cracked eyelids.  "Come on, Son," Mark encouraged.  His coaxing finally succeeded in bringing Steve back to awareness.

"Dad?"

"Yes, Son, I'm right here," Mark responded.

"Amanda?" Steve gasped.

"Is fine," Mark replied reassuringly.

The shock and residual pain from his previous injuries, coupled with the latest insult to his body was making it difficult to talk, but he persisted. "Good, I was afraid I was too late."  Steve flinched slightly as his father continued to probe his side. "How bad is it?" 

"All things considered, not that bad," Mark replied.  Mark rose from his son's side.  "I'm going to try and find some towels to clean you up."  As Mark moved away he left his son unprotected and Stan got the opportunity he had been waiting for.  He moved quickly towards Steve and drew back his foot and cruelly kicked Steve in his wounded side.  Steve gasped in pain as he felt something in his side give with the impact.  Jesse and Amanda jumped up in an effort to protect Steve but they were both surprised by the figure that came flying by them with a frying pan in his hand.  Mark descended upon Stan, knocking the gun from his hand and continued to beat him about the hands, arms and upper body.

"Stop!" screamed Mike.  "Stop now or I'll kill him."

Mark stopped and turned to find Mike had dragged Steve to his knees and now held him by the hair with the point of his gun grinding into Steve's temple.  One look at his son and the target for Mark's rage changed.  "Let him go," Mark demanded.

"Look, old man, you seem like a decent guy and I really don't want to hurt you, but I have no qualms about making your son's life miserable.  Do you understand?" Mike explained.  "Anything else that anyone tries, the cop is responsible for, and he will pay the consequences."

"I understand, just let me take care of him," Mark responded.  Mike nodded his agreement and released his grip on Steve's hair.  Without that support Steve dropped heavily to the ground with a grunt.  Mark quickly moved back to his side.  "Steve, stay awake for me, ok?"

"I'll try," was Steve's weak response.  "Dad, my side really hurts and I can't feel my hands."

"Jesse, help me lean him forward," Mark requested.  As he sat Steve up and moved to look at his hands he winced at what he saw.  The cuffs had ground deeply into his wrists and they were raw and bleeding.  Mark turned pleading eyes towards Mike.  "Can you please take these off so that we can bandage his wrists?" Mark asked.

"The cuffs stay on; the last time we took them off he attacked me.  I won't make that mistake again," Mike responded.

Knowing he would be unable to persuade him to change his mind, Mark turned his attention back to the care of his son.  "Steve, we are going to lay you on your right side to relieve the pressure on your hands."  With a nod to Jesse, they slowly moved Steve down and over to his side.  Mark then began to inspect the damage to Steve's left side.  The bullet wound though deep did not appear serious.  With gentle fingers he felt for evidence of broken or cracked ribs.  The brief examination confirmed his fear that the kick Stan had inflicted had broken a rib.  He momentarily moved his gaze towards that figure and noticed with a small amount of joy that he was nursing a few wounds of his own.

~~****~~

Cheryl was frustrated.  The curtains on the windows of Bob's had been closed tightly right after this whole stand-off had started.  The sound of a second gunshot had sent her stomach plummeting towards her feet.  She had barely stopped herself from rushing towards the door.  Only the fear of Simon Ward really sending her home as he had threatened halted her.  "Should we call his cell phone again?" Cheryl inquired.

Simon Ward looked up from the file he was reading.  "In a minute."

"What have you got there?" Cheryl inquired.

"I had the plates from any cars left around the bank run.  I had the DMV get me the pictures of the owners.  Then we compared those pictures to the security film at the bank and I think we have identified one of our friends inside.  His name is Mike Brightman.  He has been in trouble most of his life.  This will be his third strike." Simon completed.

"So he has nothing to lose," Cheryl stated.

"I would agree with that Detective Banks, now let's make that call."

~~****~~

Steve found himself once again nestled in the comforting warmth of Amanda's lap.  With a feather-like touch she caressed his hair and whispered soft words of encouragement as his father and Jesse bandaged his side and did the best they could with his wrists.  "I'm sorry," he said softly.

"Sorry for what," she inquired affectionately.

"For letting him hurt you, I should have let it happen," he responded with more than a touch of guilt.

The smile that appeared on Amanda's face was a combination of sorrow and affection.  "Steve, you saved me, I don't know where you found the strength to do it, but I love you for it."

The way he was lying in her lap prevented him from seeing her eyes but he instinctively knew that he would see the sincerity of her words reflected in their deep brown depths.  He sighed lightly and allowed his head to sink more deeply into the comforting softness of her lap.  The moment was quickly broken by the sound of his phone ringing.

"What?" Mike barked.

"Mike?" Simon Ward inquired.

'Well, aren't you the smart one?" Mike responded.

"Is everyone alright in there?" Simon asked.

"For the most part, Lieutenant Sloan seems to be a bit clumsy and keeps banging himself up," Mike replied with a slight smile.

"Does he need medical assistance?" Simon asked.

Mike's laughter was loud and boisterous.  "He's in here with three doctors, how many do you think we need?"

"Ok, what about some medical supplies?" Simon inquired.

"Nope, Doctor Sloan seems to be real good at making do with what he has," Mike answered.

"Can I talk with Lieutenant Sloan?" Simon requested.

Mike considered his request for a moment.  "No, but I'll let you talk to his father."

Mark rubbed his hands on his pants to clean the residual blood from them and then reached for the phone.  "Mark Sloan," he identified himself.

"Doctor Sloan, Lieutenant Simon Ward here, how are things in there?"

"Steve is in pretty bad shape, Doctor Bentley has a head wound and these two guys seem to be intent on their demands being met," Mark responded.

A brief smile touched Steve's lips as he realized what his father had done.  _Way to go Dad._

"You said two Doctor Sloan, has something happened to one of the robbers?" Simon asked.

"You're dead on with that thought Lieutenant Ward," Mark responded.

Again the smile graced Steve's lips.

"Ok, enough," Mike stated as he took the phone from Mark.  "In one hour we are walking out of here.  There had better be a car waiting by the front door, and it better have a full tank of gas.  We will be taking a couple of guests with us.  If these demands aren't met I will kill one of the hostages, every fifteen minutes after that another hostage will die.  Do I make myself clear?"

Simon Ward took a deep breath before responding.  "Yes, I understand."

"What?" Cheryl barked as he hung up the phone.

"I'm afraid we are about to start losing hostages," he responded. 


	4. Positive Resolution?

**It Only Hurts When I Laugh**

**Chapter 4 – Positive Resolution?**

"Mike, is this how you want your son to remember you?" Mark asked.  They had all moved back into the dining area of Bob's.  He, Jesse and Amanda had formed a protective shield around Steve.  The look in Stan's eyes indicated further revenge for Jay's death and they were determined to prevent that.

"What do you mean?" Mike asked.

"I mean, do you want him to remember you as the man who killed four innocent people?" Mark explained calmly.

"Doc, like I said before, you seem like a real decent guy, but you really have no idea about the relationship between me and my son.  You are living the American dream, you don't know about struggles and sadness," Mike replied.

"You're wrong, Mike, I worked two jobs to pay my way through medical school.  For years I thought my father had abandoned me.  It was only recently that I learned he had actually been murdered.  I lost my soul mate, my wife Katherine to cancer, my daughter Carol was murdered and I very nearly lost my son a few years ago.  I may not know your life and your struggles and sorrows but I most certainly know mine, and they are no less tragic than yours," Mark stated with a touch of anger in his voice.  "We can all use our life experiences in a positive or a negative way, the choice to make the right decision resides within each individual."

Mike lifted his hands in a gesture of surrender.  "I stand corrected, Doc, I'm sorry."

~~****~~

"So, what are we going to do?" Cheryl asked.

"We'll pretend that we are honoring their requests.  I'll have sharpshooters in position to take them out when they exit the building.  Hopefully, we will get to talk with Lieutenant Sloan or his father again and give them a heads up," Simon explained.

"I don't like it, you know they are probably going to want to take Steve with them and that puts him directly in the line of fire," Cheryl stated.

"Detective Banks, with what I have heard about Lieutenant Sloan he would prefer that it be him rather than one of the others.  I have also made plans for the SWAT team to move in the rear door as the robbers move out the front.  That way we can prevent their re-entry back into the restaurant," Simon replied.

"So, you are drawing a line in the sand that you know they are going to cross.  You are forcing a violent conclusion," was Cheryl's irritated response.

"Detective Banks, they have already shot one officer, from what we have been told Lieutenant Sloan is wounded as is Doctor Bentley.  I think we crossed the line in the sand sometime ago," Simon responded.

Cheryl knew he was right, and she also knew their options were limited.  It still didn't make her comfortable with the situation they were being forced into.

~~****~~

"Dad?" 

Mark moved his chair closer to the one that held his slumping son.  "Yes?"

"We don't have much longer, you have to get yourself, Jesse and Amanda out of here," Steve pleaded.  "If I make a move on them, can you guys get to the kitchen and out the back door?"

Mark smiled sadly.  "Steve, I won't leave you.  Stan can't wait to get his hands on you and I'm not going to allow that to happen."

"Dad, you have to do it for Jesse and Amanda.  Think of CJ and Dion," Steve responded.  

"If I can get them out of here, I will, but I will be staying.  I don't think Mike will hurt me," Mark replied.

"Dad, just because you have had a couple of conversations with him it doesn't mean you have reformed him.  For someone who has lived as long as you have, and been involved in the cases that you have you are still a kid at heart and incredibly naïve," Steve explained.  Steve took note of the hurt expression that crossed his father's face.  "Don't get me wrong, I wouldn't have you any other way.  You keep me from becoming completely cynical, but you try to find something good in everyone and sometimes that's just not the case."

Mark carefully considered his son's words before responding.  "If we stick together the chances are better of all of us getting out of here alive.  I will talk with Mike and see if he will let Amanda leave, but I will not, under any circumstances, be leaving without you by my side."

"Mark's right, Steve, as a team we have always been unstoppable, I don't think we should break up a good thing now," Jesse added with a lopsided smile.

Steve took in the three faces that observed him.  He saw affection and determination reflected there.  He smiled at them and resigned himself to the fact that he was not going to be able to persuade them to leave.  "You win, I give up," Steve responded.

~~****~~

Cheryl felt like she could hear each tick of her watch.  Each second sounded like someone hitting a kettle drum.  Each movement of the second hand brought them closer to a situation she felt was destined to end in tragedy.  She longed to hear Steve's voice again, to hear his laughter, and that special way his eyes would shine when he smiled.  He had to be ok; there were things they had both ignored.  Things she intended to remedy as soon as he was out of there.  "Steve, please be ok," she whispered as a lone tear slid down her face.

~~****~~

"Mike, do you have a minute?" Mark inquired.

"Sure Doc, what's up?" Mike asked.

"Doctor Bentley, has two young sons, she is a single parent, I would hate to see anything happen to her," Mark informed him.

"I would hate that too, Doc, I guess that means you better make sure your son's colleagues do as I ask, now doesn't it?" Mike responded.

Mark dropped his head.  Steve had been right, he hadn't reached Mike.  He had really thought he could get Amanda out of this mess, but he had been wrong.  He looked at his watch.  They only had twenty more minutes, and one way or another it would be over.

~~****~~

As Cheryl observed the sharpshooters take their positions she saw the SWAT team move towards the back of Bob's and everything… appeared to be moving in slow motion.  _TICK!  _Her watch seemed to scream.  _TICK!_  Everything was going to be alright.  _TICK!  _It had to be.  _TICK!_  The sound seemed to mock her.

~~****~~

"Stan, go take a look out the window and see if they've moved a car up yet," Mike ordered.

Stan broke the intense stare that had been directed at Steve since they had moved back into the dining area.  He walked towards the door and stopped just to the left of the frame and cautiously peered through the glass.  "I don't see nothing."

"I really hope they don't disappoint me," Mike informed his captive audience.  "Ok, here's how it's going to work.  The cop and the lady doctor will be accompanying us."

"No," was the chorused response to his plan.

Despite his weakness Steve won out over the other voices.  "You don't need her, all you need is me."

"Steve, no," Mark cried.

"Dad, please, leave this to me," Steve replied.

"Mike, look, they wouldn't dare harm you if you have one of their own for protection," Steve explained.

Mark looked at him sharply.  He knew that the truth was actually the exact opposite of what Steve said.  They would try and protect Steve, but their main goal would be to protect civilians.   

"Take me instead of Amanda," Jesse volunteered.

"The decision has been made, I would suggest you stop wasting your breath on trying to change my mind, and make sure Lieutenant Sloan is fit to walk," Mike replied.

Mark took a deep breath stood up and moved close to his son.  "Steve, I want to check your bandages."

"Alright, Dad," Steve responded.

Before Mark could even ask he felt Jesse at his elbow.  They proceeded to remove the bandage from Steve's arm and then his abdomen and clean and redress his wounds.  Steve submitted to their ministrations with barely concealed pain and patience.  He couldn't allow Amanda to leave with him.  If they followed proper procedure there would be sharpshooters waiting to take out the two robbers.  He also suspected that there would be some kind of attempted entry from the back of the restaurant.  As they finished redressing his wounds Steve glanced to find Mike and Stan engrossed in what was going on outside the restaurant, he then motioned the other's closer.

"Listen, I'm pretty sure they will have sharpshooters ready out front, I also think they will send officers in through the rear of the building.  When we start to walk through the door, I am going to try and shove Amanda back through, I want one of you to be there to lock us outside," Steve told the two shocked doctors.

"Steve….," Mark started.

"Dad," Steve interrupted.  "This is about Amanda, we need to keep her safe, agreed?"

Mark knew he was right, he knew his son was doing what came naturally to him.  It was his second nature to protect people and that's what made him such a good police officer.

"Alright, Son, but please don't forget to look after yourself as well, ok?" Mark replied with a heavy voice.

"Mike, they just pulled a car up," Stan relayed.

"It's time," Mike said.

Mark gazed intently in his son's eyes and the look they shared conveyed more than most people could exchange in a conversation.  Their relationship was both so simple and so complicated that a single look spoke more than a thousand words.  Their shared moment was interrupted when Steve was jerked from his chair by Stan.  Steve winced in pain and tried to regain his balance as Stan propelled him towards the counter making sure his injured side impacted the edge.  Steve gasped and felt his knees begin to buckle.  He heard the angry reactions from his father, Jesse and Amanda.  It took everything he had to pull himself back under control and right himself.  He stiffened his shoulders, stood up straight, turned and looked Stan in the eyes.  Though the man in front of him was badly wounded, and had his hands cuffed behind his back Stan still quelled from the look in those eyes.  They seemed to bore into his soul and for a moment he felt like the captive instead of the captor.  Those eyes seemed to promise retribution for his actions.  He quickly looked away and hooked Steve under the arm and headed towards the door.  Mike followed him with Amanda in tow.  As they neared the door, Steve spared one last glance towards his father and Jesse.  His father stood looking back, and he seemed to have aged twenty years in the last few minutes.  Jesse's eyes glistened with tears, and then the angel-like smile that only Jesse was capable of spread across his face.  Steve felt his face break into a responding smile that encompassed both Jesse and his father.  He felt fresh air as the door was opened and then found himself stepping across the threshold.


	5. The Final Stand

**It Only Hurts When I Laugh**

**Chapter 5 – The Final Stand**

Steve blinked at the sunlight as they stepped outside.  Stan was standing to his left with his gun jammed in Steve's injured side.  The contact with the counter had reopened the wound and blood was flowing freely down his stomach and onto his pants.  The added pressure of the tip of the gun only aggravated the injury more.  He tried to determine how close Amanda was to him and smiled slightly as he got his answer.  A small hand slid into his and squeezed lightly.  He squeezed back as best he could.  _It's now or never,_ he thought to himself.  After another brief squeeze of Amanda's hand he flew into action.  He used his shoulder to knock Stan off balance then quickly changed directions and moved towards Mike.  Amanda jumped back and a hand snaked out from inside Bob's and yanked her through the door.  Steve made an attempt to follow her but Stan had recovered enough to grab him by the collar of his shirt and yank him hard.  "Close and lock the door," Steve screamed.    His reward was a punch to the lower back.  Mike leaped towards the door as it closed and the lock clicked into place.

'No!" Mike shouted.  He grabbed Steve and pressed his gun to his temple.  "You just killed yourself."

~~****~~

Jesse had waited by the door on pins and needles.  Amanda and Steve were depending on him.  He had moved as close as he dared and could not believe his good luck when he saw they had not bothered to close the door as they left.  He had heard Stan's grunt as Steve impacted his body and caught a glimpse of Amanda as she jumped back.  He reached out and grabbed her arm and pulled her inside Bob's.  For a brief moment he had thought Steve would make it as well, but then Stan had grabbed him.  With great reluctance he had done as Steve asked and closed and locked the door.  With Amanda in tow, he had moved towards Mark who appeared to be in shock and led them towards the rear door.  As he reached to turn the knob he looked up to see the face of a SWAT team member.

~~****~~

Cheryl had winced as she caught the first glimpse of her partner.  His face was bloodied and bruised.  She could see the dark stains on his right sleeve and the free flowing blood running down his left side.  _He's alive, that's all that matters, _was her thought.  What happened next caused her to inhale deeply and hold her breath.  She saw Steve fly into action and watched as Amanda was pulled to safety back into the restaurant.  Her legs began to move her forward as if by their own volition.  Simon Ward's warning sounded in her head and she suddenly stopped.  

~~****~~

Mark had known what the plan was but that didn't mean he liked it.  He wanted a solution that would protect both his son and Amanda.  He had watched as they had walked out the door of Bob's, had been blessed with the smile Steve had shared as they exited but the empty feeling in the pit of his stomach only intensified.  He knew when things began to happen and had been pleased when he saw Jesse pull Amanda safely back through the door, but his gaze had remained transfixed on that opening waiting for the familiar figure of his son to appear.  His next conscious thought occurred when Jesse touched him lightly and guided him towards the back door.  _Steve,_ he cried silently.

~~****~~

Steve found himself standing between Stan and Mike.  He knew what was coming and tried to prepare himself.  In the bright sunlight, he caught the glint of something and instantly knew where one of the sharpshooters' was.  He was contemplating if he should try anything else, when he felt something impact his right shoulder.  He looked down and saw a red spot.  The spot almost immediately began to grow in size.  He then realized what had happened.  The shooter had taken his shot and Mike had fortuitously chosen to move thus moving Steve with him and had avoided the kill shot that had been aimed at him.  He was not as lucky the second time as the marksman hit his target with the next attempt.  Steve turned to try and drop low to avoid the next shot he knew was coming.  Stan suddenly became aware of what was happening and focused on the figure that was attempting to fall towards the ground.  He fired his gun at the same moment as a bullet impacted his head.  What followed was a deafening silence.

~~****~~

From his position at the back door Mark heard the single gunshot and felt his knees weaken.  He knew the shot had to come from one of the robbers.  The sharpshooters' would have been using silencers and even if they hadn't a rifle made a different sound than a handgun.  One of the robber's had fired their gun and the most likely target would have been his son.  He then found himself propelled outside by Amanda, Jesse and members of the SWAT team.

~~****~~

Cheryl had watched the events transpire in horror.  She had heard the order go across the radio to not only take the shot but also had given the approval to utilize the kill shot.  Her horror increased as she saw Mike move at just the right moment and move Steve into the line of fire.  She saw his body jerk with the impact.  She gave a silent cheer as the next shot hit its mark and Mike dropped, but that relief was short lived as she saw Steve start to move towards the ground and much to her dismay saw Stan aim his gun at Steve's unprotected back.  The sound of the shot reverberated through her head.

~~****~~

Steve found himself on the ground lying across Mike.  His body felt numb.  He had felt Stan punch him in the back one last time and wondered what other damage had been done.  As he lay there he contemplated trying to stand up, but quickly decided that maybe he would just take a little nap.  He quietly drifted off into oblivion unaware of the mass of bodies that were descending upon his position.

~~****~~

Cheryl was the first to reach her fallen partner.  She dropped to a knee beside him and rested a hand on his shoulder.  She fumbled with her other hand for a key to release the cruel handcuffs that had butchered his wrists.  She was quickly joined by Mark, Jesse and Amanda.  Mark took note of note of the fresh blood on his son's shirt.

"One of our guys shot him," Cheryl stated.

"What!" Mark exclaimed.  "Where?"

"In his right shoulder," Cheryl answered.

"Mark, I can't tell if the blood on his back is from the abdominal wound or something else," Jesse explained.

"The one guy shot at him," Cheryl informed them.  "I don't know if he hit him or not."

Mark gently moved Steve's shirt up his back and much to his dismay found another bullet wound marring his son's body.  "Cheryl, we need the ambulance, now."

~~****~~

Mark sat quietly waiting for word on his son.  Amanda's head rested against his right shoulder as she dozed lightly.  Cheryl sat to his left and even in his shell-shocked state Mark had noticed something in her demeanor that had captured his curiosity.  He had often wondered about the relationship she shared with his son.  It had, on occasion, seemed to extend beyond being partners.  She has been battling tears since they had arrived at the hospital and her expression displayed intense despair.  Mark sighed and shifted slightly to move Amanda to a more comfortable position and thought back to the not so distant past when they had arrived at the hospital.

_"Mark, he's on his way to surgery.  None of the wounds by themselves are life threatening but he has lost a lot of blood, he coded briefly but he bounced back quickly.  It's going to be a little rough but I think we have a real good chance.  I'll be back as soon as I can," Jesse had explained._

Mark was brought back to the present by a sweaty tousled headed figure that leaned against the door frame.  He felt Cheryl tense beside him, and forgetting Amanda was sleeping on his shoulder he jumped up startling her in the process.

Jesse smiled.  "He's fine, pretty banged up, but I think maybe we ought to give him the nickname of 'Timex'."

As the three people in front of him stared at him quizzically Jesse elaborated.  "You know, 'Timex watches', they take a licking and keep on ticking."

Mark laughed and soon was joined by Cheryl and Amanda.  The tears of fear and sorrow that had been lurking in their eyes turned to tears of joy and amusement.

~~****~~

Mark sat quietly by Steve's bed.  He had come through the surgery with flying colors and had already been moved to a regular room.  He had an array of wounds that would take some time to heal but he would be fine.  He heard a sound at the door and turned to find Cheryl framed in the door.

"Hi, I thought you had gone home?" Mark said.

Cheryl dropped her head slightly, and when she looked back up Mark saw the tears glistening there.  "Cheryl, what is it?" he asked.

Cheryl was unsure what she should do.  She had started home, but she needed to see and touch him before she could relax.  How did she explain this to Mark?  "I just wanted to make sure he was alright." She explained with a tentative smile.

Mark smiled his understanding, and in his infinite wisdom garnered much more from what she didn't say, rather than what she had said, "Could you stay with him a minute, I would really like to get a cup of coffee?" Mark requested.

"Sure," Cheryl responded.

As Mark left the room, he squeezed her arm affectionately.

Cheryl moved to the side of the bed and lightly brushed her fingers through his hair.  She traced a finger down his face, across his chin and stopped when it reached his lips.  She raised two of her fingers to her own lips, and then reaching back down she placed those same fingers on his lips.  He stirred slightly under her touch, and she leaned down and placed her lips in the area her fingers had just vacated.  As she raised her head, she found two startled blue eyes watching her.  She felt the blush creep up her face, and she quickly jerked up.  Steve attempted to raise an arm to touch her, but grimaced in pain as the motion pulled at various wounds.  Cheryl seeing his discomfort rested her hand on his and grasped it.  

"Hey," she said.

Steve's first attempt to talk produced no sound.  Cheryl took note of the ice chips in the cup on the table by Steve's bed and carefully spooned some into his mouth.  He swallowed them carefully and then tried again.

"Hey, yourself," was his hoarse response.  "What were you doing?"

"What do you mean what was I doing?" Cheryl asked.

"Were you kissing me?" he asked.

The sureness and the confidence Cheryl had felt was quickly evaporating.  "Kiss you, Sloan, get real, I was leaning down to see if you were awake."

"So what, you got sleepy while you were checking and decided to take a nap against my lips for a moment?" Steve asked with a smile.

"No, I…well, I'm glad you're awake, your dad will be pleased.  He just went to get some coffee, let me go see if I can find him," Cheryl stuttered nervously as she quickly made her escape.

Sleep was trying to reclaim him, but Steve tried desperately to hang on.  He wanted to see his father, to make sure that he and the others were fine, but his eyes became heavier, and he lost the battle and slipped off into a deep healing sleep.


	6. On The Mend

**It Only Hurts When I Laugh**

**Chapter 6 – On The Mend**

When Steve awoke again, he turned his head slightly and saw a rumpled figure sleeping in the chair next to his bed.  He smiled affectionately and began silent inventory of his aches and pains.  He had a dull ache in his lower back that he suspected would erupt into full fledged pain with any incautious movement.  His left side felt numb, and there was a steady pounding coming from his right shoulder.  His face felt better though.  His eyes and lips didn't seem to be quite as swollen as before.  _Not that bad, you got lucky again, Sloan._  His thoughts were interrupted by the crack of light that signaled the door being opened.  The open door was filled by a familiar friendly face.

"Jess," Steve greeted in a croaky whispered voice.

"Hey, big guy," Jesse said quietly as he moved closer to the bed.

"Couldn't you get him to go home?" Steve asked nodding towards his father.

"We tried; I even had Amanda use emotional blackmail.  She told him she didn't feel well enough to drive home.  He had Cheryl get an officer to take her," Jesse responded.

Steve smiled.  "Why?  I don't feel that bad.  I'm in a regular room, so obviously nothing life threatening.

"I needed to be here," was the answer from the figure in the chair.

"Dad," Steve greeted.  "Are you alright?"

Mark rotated his neck and stretched his arms above his head.  "I'm fine, Son, how are you?"

"I think, I'm about to find out," Steve said nodding towards Jesse.

Jesse grinned.  "Mark, go get cleaned up, and have some breakfast, and I'll have our boy ready for company when you get back."

Mark had to admit he was feeling a little scruffy, and he was definitely hungry.  He rose from the chair and moved closer to Steve's bed.  He rested his hand on his arm.  "I'll be back shortly; you boys stay out of trouble."

He received matching grins that caused him to chuckle slightly.  They looked like two mischievous youngsters who were just waiting for the adult to leave.

~~****~~

"So, what's up with you and Cheryl," Jesse asked.

"What?" was Steve's grunted response.  Though he was being as gentle as possible, Jesse's poking and prodding was reawakening all the pains at the same time.  Steve was finding it difficult to breathe much less carry on a conversation.  But, the ever chatty Jesse seemed oblivious to that fact. 

"I mean, she was really upset when we brought you in," Jesse responded.

"Jesse," Steve gasped.  He slowly counted to ten to try and quell the pain before he continued.  "We are partners, we work together every day, she reacted the same way I would if our situations were reversed.  We worry about each other."

"Is that all it is?" Jesse questioned.  "Lean back for me, so I can check out your stomach and shoulder."

"Jesse, I'm not up for twenty questions, just tell me what you want to know," Steve said through gritted teeth.

"Ok, ok," Jesse said as he raised his hands.  "Do you, and she, have personal feelings for each other?"

Steve jerked as if hit by a punch.  Jesse had actually verbalized 'the question'.  How should he respond?  He knew he had feelings about Cheryl that went beyond being partners, he felt like she shared those feelings, but they had never talked about them other than the occasional odd comment.

"Well?" came the impatient request.

"Jesse, I don't know, we have never talked about it," Steve replied.

"What do you mean you don't know?" Jesse asked.  "You don't know your own feelings?"

"That's not what I meant," said an exasperated Steve.  "Can we talk about this some other time when you aren't torturing me?" 

Jesse took note of the white lines around the mouth and the rapid breathing.  "Jeez, Steve, I'm sorry, let's take a little break."

"That would be appreciated," Steve replied.

~~****~~

Steve had been dozing when Mark came back in the room and didn't immediately acknowledge his presence.  When he became aware that he was no longer alone, he smiled sweetly and opened his eyes.  Mark had been watching him intently, and when the smile spread across his face and filled the blue eyes with sparkles Mark felt a moment of sadness.  When Steve smiled like that he mimicked one of Katherine's best features.  Steve had his eyes, but the shape of his mouth was purely his mothers, and when he allowed a smile to soften his features in a certain way it was like looking at Katherine.

Steve noticed his fathers reserved response.  "What's wrong, Dad?"

Mark smiled.  "Nothing, Son, I was just marveling at how much you look like your mother sometimes." 

The response had embarrassed Steve, and he lowered his eyes before responding somewhat awkwardly.  "Oh, ok, did you enjoy your breakfast?" 

"Why, yes I did.  How was yours?  Did Jesse help you?" Mark inquired.

"No, actually Amanda did.  Should she be here?" Steve questioned.

"She says she feels fine," Mark answered.

"Dad, I wish she would talk with someone.  She went through a pretty traumatic experience," Steve explained.

"We all did, Steve.  Do you think it was easy for us to watch them hurt you?"

"No, Dad, I know it wasn't easy.  Maybe you all need to see someone," Steve responded.

"You don't think you were traumatized?" Mark asked somewhat incredulously.

"Dad, it's different.  I'm a cop, those kinds of situations are what I deal with," Steve answered.

"Oh really, so you're telling me that on a regular basis you are held captive with your family and friends while said captors try to destroy you a piece at a time.  When, was the last time that happened?" Mark asked with a touch of anger tinting his voice.

Steve paused a moment before he answered.  "Dad, that's not exactly what I meant.  I deal with life and death situations is more what I meant.  It was a horrible experience and will have lingering affects for us all."

Mark nodded his understanding, and they settled back to enjoy each other's company.

~~****~~

Steve had finished his dinner and  persuaded his father to go home for the evening.  He was contemplating turning the TV on to see if there was anything good on when the door to his room was opened and a face sporting a tentative smile appeared.

"Come on in," Steve offered.

"Sloan," Cheryl greeted.  "You certainly look better, how are you feeling?"

"Not too bad, Jesse must have me on some great stuff," Steve replied with a grin.

Cheryl still stood awkwardly by the door with her head and eyes slightly downcast.

"Cheryl, you can come in, I'm not contagious you know," Steve informed her with a devilish grin.

Cheryl offered a shy smile as she moved further into the room and towards the bed.

"So, apparently we have been the topic of conversations," Steve informed her.

'Yes, it seems we have.  It's funny isn't it?" Cheryl stated.

"Yes, it is," Steve agreed.

"I mean, to think that we, you and I, could be anything other than partners is so bizarre," Cheryl said.

"Oh, it is?" Steve responded in a disappointed tone.

"Well, don't you agree?"  Cheryl asked.

"Cheryl, I like you…," Steve started.

"And, I like you," Cheryl added.

"Yes, but do you like me as more than a partner?" Steve asked hopefully.

Cheryl dropped her head as her mind screamed.  _He actually asked the question!_  "Yes," was her soft response.  When Steve didn't answer she looked up to find him watching her intently.  His look held an expression that she had never seen before, and they had been in enough situations that she thought she had seen them all.  It took her a moment to pinpoint what was reflected there.  _Fear, oh my gosh he's afraid,_ she thought.

"So what do we do about it?" Steve finally asked.

Cheryl giggled.  If someone where to have walked in on them they would thought by the seriousness of their tone and the expressions on their faces that they were talking about some heinous murder case, not the possibility of going out together.

"What?" Steve asked.

"Nothing, I was just thinking that it sounds like we are talking about a case rather than going out on a date," Cheryl informed him with a smile.

"Are we talking about a date?" Steve asked.

"I don't know are we?" Cheryl replied.

"Oh, for Pete's sake," came the excited comment from the door.

Steve and Cheryl both jumped and turned towards the door which they noticed was cracked open.

"Well, you might as well come in too," Steve invited.

The sheepish visage of Jesse appeared in the door.  "I'm sorry, I was kinda listening, and I couldn't help myself.  If you two went about solving crimes like you do about possibly going on a date you would never close a case."

"Well thank you, I didn't realize your field of expertise included counseling, what would you suggest?" Steve asked.

"Cheryl, do you like Steve as something other than a partner?" Jesse asked.

"Yes," she responded.

"Steve, do you like Cheryl as something other than a partner?"

"Probably," was Steve's response.

"Probably," was the chorused response from both Cheryl and Jesse.

"Come on Steve, it's a real easy word, it only has one syllable and it starts with a y, give it a try, I know you can do it," Jesse encouraged.

Steve dropped his head to cover his smile.  "Yes," he responded.

"I want to make sure that we are all clear on what we have decided.  Number one we like each other as more than partners, and number two we want to go out on a date.  Do we all know where we stand?" Jesse completed.

He received two meek nods in response to his inquiry.  "Then my work here is done, I will have to hope that the two of you can handle things now."  He then turned and left the room shutting the door firmly behind him.

'Well, I guess he told us," Cheryl smilingly said.

"He certainly did," said Steve doing an absolutely horrid Stan Laurel impersonation.

Cheryl rolled her eyes and moved the chair closer to the bed as she started to lower herself into the chair, she glanced at his face.  He wore an almost expectant look.    She stopped her descent and leaned over the bed.  Her eyes never breaking contact with his she brushed her lips gently against his.  The brief touch was electric.  She broke the contact briefly before once again settling her lips against his.  It was a caressing and passionate kiss that held the promise of much more to come.  When they broke apart she found herself lost in the deep pools of blue that regarded her with a passion that took her breath away. 

~~****~~

Steve sat on the deck enjoying the sun's healing rays.  He had been home from the hospital for almost a week now and was starting to feel more like himself.  He and Cheryl had planned their first date for two weeks from today.  That would be hopefully his last visit with Jesse, and he would be released.  He heard a noise behind him and turned slightly.  "Hey, Dad, did you talk with her?"

"Yes I did, a very nice lady," Mark responded.

During Steve's stay in the hospital he and Mark had talked about Mike's son.  Steve felt it was important for the child to know that his father had fond thoughts of him even in the worst of situations and that he had loved him.  Mark had agreed and had set about finding them.  It had taken a little time because she had changed her name and it had required all of Mark's considerable charm to convince people to give him the information he needed to track her down.

"So, she was receptive to meeting with you?" Steve asked.

"Yes, she said that when she first met Mike that she really felt she could make a difference and keep him on the right path.  He had been in some minor trouble but nothing serious.  They eventually got married and had a baby.  His name is Sean by the way.  A real cute kid.  Things had gone pretty well, then he lost his job and his frustration of not bringing home a paycheck drove him into the more serious stuff.  She said she stuck with him through the first armed robbery conviction and was there waiting when he got paroled, but when he got arrested the second time she filed for divorce and sole custody of Sean," Mark said.

"What was she going to tell Sean?" Steve asked.

"She really wasn't sure.  She said when he got older she would tell him the truth, but she thought for now she would just tell him that daddy was away, but that he loved him very much," Mark responded.

Steve stared thoughtfully at his father.  He could not imagine his life without him in it.  He had been his best playmate as a child, and though they had butted heads on occasion in his teenage years, he had still respected and confided in him.  When his mother had died, he had missed her quiet dignity and calming presence, but once again his father had helped him cope and work through his grief.  As they had both grown older, their lives had become so intricately entwined that they almost thought as one sometimes.  Mark's sharp analytical mind worked out the less obvious clues and details on cases and Steve's handled the more obvious aspects.  They both played to their strengths and made an almost unstoppable team.  He thought back to the ordeal at Bob's.  As had been the case his entire life his father had been his rock, he had always looked to him for guidance.  "Thanks, Dad," Steve said suddenly.

Mark gave him a questioning look.  "For what?"

For a moment Steve looked slightly embarrassed, then he looked his father directly in the eyes.  "For always being there to pick me up when I fall, no matter how old I get."

**The End**


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